Guy de Maupassant - The Colonel's Nieces

“Do you mean that we were at the Opera and that restaurant at the same time-without me knowing about it?”

“Dearest don't you know that love is blind?”

“Please, I am serious. Were you really there?”

“I did not say that!”

“But in the meantime…”

“In the meantime I notice that your passion has not yet reached the point where your instincts take over.”

“One minute, darling.”

During this conversation, Maxim's hands had not been idle, and-straying through the billows of lace and silk-had soon discovered that his paramour's gown was only held together by a few ribbons. He quickly loosened them.

And the mirror was really a good one. It showed, when the billows of embroidered silk and lace slowly dropped to the floor, a perfect woman's body. Long, blonde hairs flowed down snow-white, well rounded shoulders. A patch of golden fleece covered and enchanting little love grotto. Maxim, who wanted to show that he was not a novice in the art of love, and who had been shown more than convincingly the extent of Lady Evergreen's passion, began to cover the wonderful breasts of the young woman with passionate, hot kisses. The little buds stretched voluptuously when his lips brushed past them and stretched more yearningly when he rolled them between his fingers. He tongued her breasts, caressed them with feverish hands, and did not forget the blonde tufts under her armpits.

Florentine let him do as he pleased; her eyes did not stray from the mirror for a single second. Intently, she followed every one of Maxim's movements.

He had picked her up and stretched her across the bed- Florentine anticipated all his movements. Staring at the mirror, she slowly spread her thighs, awaiting things to come with pounding heart and high expectations.

Maxim knelt down upon the bear rug in front of the bed. His loving fingers parted the silken curls of her quim, kissing the clitoris which he had bared. He kissed it, his eager tongue lapping across it, and it began to stretch and grow under his caresses till it was stiff enough for him to suck. He rolled it between his lips, and at the same time his hands eagerly twirled the nipples and kneaded the jutting breasts. The young woman sighed with a deep satisfaction.

“Aaah… it feels so good… oh, please, go on…”

“I was right,” Maxim thought, “there was good reason for her to show me all those lesbian scenes.”

“Oooh… it's delicious… how marvelous…” Lady Evergreen became more and more rapturous. “… please, not too quickly… I wish it to last forever and ever! Aaaah… ooh… please, please, darling lover… your tongue… I feel it… and your teeth… please, bite me tenderly!”

Maxim obeyed. He pressed his lips lovingly upon this downy peach which tasted better than anything he had ever tasted. He did not spend all his energy on the stiffened clitoris. After all, his love was no longer a young girl and he rightly suspected that the other parts of her vagina had also become sensitive enough to give her the greatest pleasure. His tongue strayed farther and his fingers took over the task of playing with the pumping clitoris. Florentine was floating in ecstasy. This was superior to Julia's kisses and caresses.

“Oh, my God… my dear God,” she exclaimed, “if you keep this up I am afraid that I can't… I can't… Oh, God… don't you hear me… I don't have enough strength… I can't… it is impossible… Maxim… darling… it… oooh… I…”

Florentine's peach-blonde quim flooded, her marvelous body spasmed and jerked, and with a deep sigh she fell back into the pillows She wanted to get up because she knew that she had been understood, but two strong hands pressed her back upon the bed. Maxim had begun to enjoy his task, and he wanted to see if he could cause her to have another orgasm.

He buried his head deeply between her thighs, his tongue fervently licking the insides of her sheath, his teeth nibbling sharply on her clitoris. With his index finger he slowly penetrated her tiny little asshole, while his thumb moved upwards to join his tongue. His prickly moustache mixed with the silken hairs of the moistened cunny and Florentine began to squirm and groan.

“Oooh,” she suddenly exclaimed in a high pitched voice, “I think I'm dying… I can't stand it.!” Maxim doubled his efforts and was soon rewarded by a copious flood which seemed to be drawn from her entire body, concentrating in her cunt. With his last effort, Maxim received the entire soul of this beautiful little blonde who fell back on the bed in a dead faint, without bothering to find out if her companion had also experienced a climax.

Maxim was tempted but, despite his extreme excitement, he managed to control himself, and he did not rape his paramour. He thought, “She obviously prefers minette over any other way of having sex, and I can't imagine that she will be so cold-blooded as not to repay me in at least a similar way.”

And, he was right. When Florentine had recuperated enough from her ecstasy she sat up in bed, threw her arms around Maxim's neck, and kissed him long and passionately.

“Oh, my lover, I love you so much. You have made me happier than I have ever been.”

Her mouth drank his hot breath and her nimble fingers began to unbutton his clothes. When he, too, was completely naked, she rubbed her little nose against his rough skin and mixed in those caresses which brought new life to the hopes of the Count de Berny. She quickly slid down from the bed and pressed him backwards, returning all the delights she had received from him. Her lips trailed the hair on his chest, her tongue tipped down toward his navel, went lower, and she slowly kissed the tip of his prick. Her tongue flicked and sipped at his balls, and her sharp little teeth nibbled sweetly at the shaft of his throbbing tool. Though the young man was inexperienced in these things-he had always taken the lead immediately-and therefore a little bit shy, her ministrations brought him to the point of utmost excitement, but still he could not let himself go.

Florentine became a little impatient and she called out, “Come on, my darling… I am longing for you! I want to taste your love juices… don't withhold them from me. Quickly, give me your tool!”

The girl slipped her panting lips over the spongy head of his throbbing rod and clung tightly to it. The wealth of her scented blonde hair spilled across Maxim's belly. She also clung to his balls with her fingers, and she took the entire length of his tool so far into her, so far past lips, teeth and tongue, deep into the velvety reaches of her throat, that Maxim feared she would strangle herself on so much meat. But Florentine knew what she was doing. She stroked the head softly into her palate, tenderly into her throat, creating a marvel of suction. The wet and drawing power seemed to pull all of Maxim into her mouth. He began to writhe and twist, and almost cried out loud for freedom. The explosive force was building up in his loins, aching in his belly, but every time he was about to come, Florentine switched the speed of her caresses, the tempo of her ministration and the rhythm of her sucking. Maxim's heaving tool responded to tongue and teeth as it throbbed manfully against the insides of her cheeks and the satiny depths of her throat. Florentine pulled upon his ramrod as if she wanted to pull his very backbone down through it.

Maxim grabbed her head and began to buck in a wild frenzy. Florentine followed all his movements in perfect counter-rhythm and she drew upon him with many gulpings and smackings. She drove him once again into the marvelous softness of her throat. It was too much.

Maxim let his semen fly in tremendous spurts, for the first time in his life not in a clinging quim but into the charming throat of his Lady Evergreen, who ate so adoringly of his prick and who caressed his balls so sensually.